


Another Wall

by Cel1a



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 東京放課後サモナーズ | Tokyo Afterschool Summoners | Housamo
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Farlan, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28358703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cel1a/pseuds/Cel1a
Summary: Mitsuru, the Guild Leader of the Summoners, find themselves whisked away to another world. Giant monsters called Titans roam the world and kill the people within it. Going back home can wait, now's the time to fight.But wait, where's Boundless Tail, and why are they a child?
Kudos: 5





	1. Did You Ever Have Someone You Can Truly Say You Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really just a mashup of one of my favorite games and one of my favorite anime. They both have walls and that was all my hyperactive brain needed.

Being trapped in endless darkness, maybe falling, maybe flying, is a sensation that Mitsuru was familiar with; it was the very first thing they could remember after all. Just before being spat out in Tokyo with nothing but their name, a phone, and the clothes on their back, they had floated through a similar void. The Transient can't remember what they were thinking then, or how they felt, everything only hit when they landed face-first on the Shinjuku Park's pavement. They had taken precautions this time, laying on their back in preparation for another rough landing, yet it never came. Instead, their senses came back to them slowly, as if awaking from a dream.

The ground holds them up, cold and damp. The thin clothes on their back cling to the skin. An attempt to shift away from the uncomfortable spot is hindered by both their bare arms and clothed legs being bound by a rope. An attempt at biting the restraints off is stopped by a gag in their mouth.

Mitsuru quickly realizes that they've been kidnapped and tries to struggle out of their bonds, a choice that only causes the rope to dig even harder into their exposed arms. It hurts, incredibly so, which confuses them. One would think that after everything they've been through, rope burn would be nothing. The pain does help clear their mind and Mitsuru wishes they could smack themself for being so stupid. Boundless Tail could get them out of this easily.

Yet, after rolling on either side to try and dislodge the sword from its sheath, it becomes apparent that it's gone. Had they unsummoned it? Or had it been taken? The thought of losing their Sacred Artifact brought a new wave of determination. Mitsuru rolls until they bump into a wall; it's wooden and the individual planks can be felt; they're in a wooden crate, then. They rub their cheek against the container, trying to dislodge the gag, but it's firmly wedged in the back of their mouth. Mitsuru tried struggling even harder but only succeeded in looking like a worm on LSD. Finally, they decided to go back to their first instinct and simply screamed as loudly as they could and hoped someone would hear. This does eventually catch someone's attention as footsteps approach their prison.

"What the hell is that noise?" The possible savior asks. The voice is masculine and speaks with an accent Mitsuru has never heard before; it takes them a second to mentally translate. "Isabelle, did you steal the wrong shit?" Thieves, they had been saved by thieves. Good-hearted thieves, hopefully.

"No! It was the right one, but there was more than usual." A younger, feminine voice replied from further away. "I just grabbed everything I could get my hands on. Had to circle back to grab this though, what do you think it is? Cattle? A pig?" Mitsuru felt insulted by that, but held back any retort; they had to get out of there first.

"Pigs don't sound like that." A third voice scoffs, a masculine one, closer but from higher up, taller.

"How would you know?"

"Touche."

"Whatever, just chuck it with the rest." The first- who seemed to be the leader- orders.

"Aye aye!"

"Sure."

The crate was lifted from the wet ground in short hefts, they weren't that heavy were they? "You got it?" It was then that the transient realized that only the younger thief was carrying them. Yet, they were laying longwise and were being lifted that way too. Were they giants?

"I'm fine."

"Alright, don't go pulling out your back being stubborn."

"Worry about yourself, gramps."

"Why you-" They were cut short by the leader telling them to hurry. Sure enough, Mitsuru could hear yelling in the distance.

The trio ran off, taking Mitsuru with them. The way back to their destination was a long one, regularly doubling back to shake any pursuers in a way that seemed well-practiced. Once they got a fair bit away, they started talking again, allowing Mitsuru to think.

From what they could glean they were in a slum far removed from nature. If they knew what a pig was but couldn't tell the difference between one and a human being, something was definitely wrong. It seemed like they didn't know much of their own world much less another's. The rational part of their mind reasoned that this was all the more reason to book it as fast as possible, but this was squashed by the Transient's mountain-sized hero complex. So they stayed silent, trying to learn more from the trio's conversation.

* * *

Three people walk through the narrow, dirty streets of the Underground in a triangle formation, closely guarding their prize. They had only stolen enough gas for their next venture and thus had to go back home on foot. A short young man led the others, with dark, stormy grey eyes, and kept black undercut hair. He glanced back at their haul, it would be enough to easily pay everyone back and then some, this time at least. Shipments were slowing due to their raids and they were being forced to spread out even more. There was a growing risk of having to go into others' territory, and he wasn't sure if his newest crewmate was ready for that. He watched the redheaded girl all but skipping behind him. She had caught onto the 3DMG quickly and had made herself indispensable. For a multitude of reasons, the young man didn't want to put her or anyone else in any unnecessary danger.

He saw the mysterious crate she had insisted on bringing in the corner of his eye. She was carrying it with relative ease, though she had to stop and adjust her grip every so often. From its oddly long shape and how they were chased down for much longer than normal, he had originally thought it was filled with some kind of narcotic, but then it started squealing. Live cattle were near impossible to keep in the Underground, so he would think that such a thing would be better guarded, yet he saw it sitting on top of the cart from his perch on the rooftops. It was almost laughably easy to simply scoop up and run off with. Maybe that was why there were so many Military Police hanging around in the past few days? He had assumed it was because it was graduation season. But, maybe not, especially if that crate held what he thought it did.

Realizing he had walked off in his musings, he slowed down to join the other's conversation.

"We should have all the guys come over!" The redheaded girl cheered.

"For what?" He asked.

"The-" She glances around suspiciously, "that thing, duh!" She hefts the crate to emphasize her point.

The lanky blonde man, who until then had simply been nodding along with the girl's ramblings, shared a look with the raven from over her shoulder. It seemed they shared the same suspicion. The young man shrugs dismissively in response and turns forward, hiding his scowl. This place really only gets worse with time.

"None of us know how to cook that, and the nearest butcher is miles away, it'll be dead by then." The blonde tries to coax her away from the idea.

"If there's anyone who can figure it out, it's you Farlan. You're, like, the best cook in all the Underground!" Farlan flushes, puffing his chest with pride.

"Isabel I- I guess I could give it a shot." He pointedly avoids the burning glare sent by the shorter man.

"We'll have to see. First, we gotta get this shit back in one piece."

"Alright then! Let's hurry back!" Isabel runs past them, flying down the street.

"Oi!" The raven-haired man tries to call after her but knows it's no use. "Damn brat." He sighs, then turns to the other male. "What the hell was that about?"

"Sorry, sorry. It's just we don't know, you know?"

"Don't we?" The blonde stays silent.

They get back home without incident, the two men stopping at the foot of the stairway up to their house to watch Isabel shove the last few inches of the crate through the door. "Don't scratch the floor!" The younger-looking man rushes up the stairs. The crate is settled on a rug in front of the door. At the insistence of "not letting any more shit get tracked in the house" Farlan leaves to get a crowbar while the raven grabs cleaning rags in preparation.

The smaller two watch anxiously as the top is pried open. Seeing what's inside, the young man sighs while the girl visibly deflates.

A child, no older than ten, peeked out of the top of the wooden crate. They topple it on its side and roll out on their own, revealing that they were bound and gagged.

"Slave trafficking." The raven-haired male sneers.

"Why, what?"

He leaves the girl to process the information to check on the kid, kneeling to see them better. Hair that he could only tell from close up was actually a dark brown and a pair of matching eyes, even darker than his own. Despite the child's hair being wilder than in the stories, they fit all the stories of the rare Oriental people he had heard of. The child, a boy he assumed, was in good shape. Healthy, well-fed, dressed in a long stained white shirt and pants. The only mars on him were the rope burns and two identical star tattoos on the back of his hands. Such an opaque, vibrant shade was rare and expensive, the kid was obviously important to someone important. The child meets the man's dark gaze with a similarly appraising look, glancing about the room, then returning to him, inspecting everything with an intelligent gleam in his eye. The young man scowls, that bastard merchant was probably going to make a pretty penny off the brat.

Isabel voices her anger outwardly, in comparison. Kicking the wall while cursing loudly. "I should have stolen every last thing that bastard owned. Damnit, DAMNIT!"

"I get that you're mad, but stop wrecking our house!" Farlan swings the girl away from punting the trashbin, holding her like a feral cat.

The boy is unperturbed by the chaos, watching the rampaging redhead with amusement. His attention shifts back to the young man in front of him when he unties his arms, leaving the boy to do the rest.

"Brat." He quirks his head in the man's direction. "Can you speak?"

"I can." The boy's eyes widen, as if unused to hearing his own voice. "私の声はとっても奇妙に聞こえる..." He says to himself. While the man can't even pretend to understand what he said- unable to hear half of it from under Isabel's tired pants as she winds down- he notices the boy says it much easier.

"You know another language?" He wasn't aware that there were people who still did. Things must be different on the Surface.

"Yes. This is my second... somewhat."

Before he could question the boy's hesitation, Isabel butt in. "That's so cool! Where did you learn to do that?" She seemed to have completely calmed down from her rampage, plopping down on the floor next to the raven-haired man.

"Everyone does back home."

"And where would that be?" The young man tries to steer the conversation. The boy opens his mouth to reply, then sighs.

"Far from here, I know that much. I don't suppose the name Tokyo rings any bells?"

"None."

"Must be the name of some Surface town." Isabel reasons.

"Thought as much- wait, Surface?"

"We're in the Underground." Farlan informs him. "It was originally built as a shelter for humanity, years ago, but construction was stopped halfway through. Now, it's this."

"A slum. Where all the things the people up top don't like seeing go. Including child trafficking routes." The other male adds. "All the exits are heavily guarded, and the fees to get past are so fucking overpriced most people can only dream of the Sun. If you're really from the Surface, it's going to be near impossible for you to get back, honestly."

The boy sat in thought for a while, then nodded, resolved. He sat on his legs, placed his hands on his knees, and bowed his head. "Please, allow me to take residence here until I can find my way home! I can earn my keep. I'm not a good cook, but I'm good at cleaning! I may not look like it, but I'm good at heavy lifting! Please!" He bows even further, placing his forehead on the ground.

The short man stares at the boy. His eyes stayed trained on the floor, but his shoulders were shaking. "Are you sure you can earn your keep? We don't need any dead weight."

"I will!"

"An extra pair of hands is always welcome." Farlan loudly notes.

"You said we need to cover more ground, right bro?"

"Yeah... fine," ink-black eyes snap up to meet his, "you can stay. At least until we can get to the bottom of this shit."

A smile bursts onto the boy's face, Isabel cheers, and Farlan smiles in kind. "Thank you! I promise you, you won't regret it!" He bows even further.

"I better not."

"Great! Welcome to the family, uhh. What's your name again?" The jumble of syllables that erupt from the boy's mouth is unpronounceable by any human tongue.

"Brat it is then." The boy pouts.

"No way!"

"He looks like a Kyle to me."

"This is why we don't let you name things."

"Then what's your idea?"

"What about Wolfram. The newest cub in the pack."

The boy puts his hand to his chin. "Alright, but I'd really rather you'd just call me by my real name."

"Well then, it's nice ta meetcha, Wolfram. I'm Isabel Magnolia!"

"Farlan Church."

"Levi."

"A pleasure to meet you all. My name is Wolfram. I will be in your care from today until I can find my way home, please take care of me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To explain, Wolfram is a mashup of all the protagonists, and Mitsuru is a non-specific one of them.


	2. Late Night Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter covering Mitsuru's thoughts and worries after being in the AOT world for a week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains reference/minor spoilers to Chapter 9 of TAS

Mitsuru had several difficulties adjusting to their new life in this unnamed world.

For one, they only now realized that they didn't know how to function on their own. Ever since first arriving in Tokyo, Mitsuru had food and bed guaranteed. Whenever there was a crisis, they were always more worried about surviving to think of anything else. In the end. the matters would be resolved before starvation even became a thought. Now they had to learn how to ration, only eating as much as necessary, especially since they were now a liability.

That was another problem. At some point, Mitsuru had shrunken into the body of a child and had no clue as to how or why. Their mind had remained the same, yet their physique, which they had so carefully cultivated, suffered greatly from the loss. It would take a significant amount of time to get used to the new form; in the meanwhile, Mitsuru couldn't be as much of a help to their saviors as they had wished. That feeling of being useless, of being a burden, of being weak, was suffocating. The Transient could only desperately wish that it was a temporary change.

It should have been impossible to curse them, regardless. Boundless Tail should have deflected any alterations to Mitsuru's mind or body. They had been unable to duck out of their new housemates' sight long enough to summon it, but that fact worried them greatly. Though they obviously had to unsummon their sword for class, it had been with them every day of the short forever the amnesiac could remember. Being so long without it was unnatural.

Equally as odd was being without their phone. It would be impossible to call anyone, but they could use the SUMMONS app to at least tell their friends they were alive. Calling backup was a no-go for the same reason. They doubted they could find a replacement here, they've only heard of carts and carriages, lanterns, and such. This was the slums, but one could only be so far removed from modern technology, they figured. Any mention of it got them confused stares.

That was a problem all on its own. It seems that at some point, they had been labeled as clinically insane. Mitsuru had been grilled about everything under the sun by Levi. Eventually, the topic of their life back home came up, and when the de-aged student tried to regale their story to the man, he called them a liar and refused to listen! Farlan took him off to the side and talked to him, but he never seemed convinced when they tried to tell him. Even the blonde only smiled and nodded, as if they were an actual child. Isabel was the only one who actually listened, though they felt as if she were treating it more like a fairy tale than anything true.

Mitsuru lay on the floor of what had been their home for the past week, holding their right hand up against the wooden ceiling and inspecting the golden band wrapped around their pointer finger. It was the only thing they had from Tokyo. Farlan had later found it in the crate they had been trapped in and was praising his luck when they rushed to snatch it out of his hand. Their throat still hurts from the argument that ensued. While the ring was still a mystery, it was obviously important, the matching piece on Lil'Salomon said as much.

Speaking of which, the level 3 familiar had gone AWOL yet again. Calling for him yielded no results, despite him insisting otherwise before their trip through time and space. They were used to as much by now- they had hoped he would stop randomly disappearing for lengths of time after they had made up. The thought of worry didn't cross their mind, however, as they could feel their connection through the ring itself.

Curled within a cocoon of torn cloth weaved into a blanket, Mitsuru retreated their arm back inside. Their entire body ached from their self inflicted torture called late-night training. The past week had been rather hectic, and tomorrow would bring one even more so. Eyes growing heavy, Mitsuru reflected on everything that had happened that past week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, actually got this one out within the next day! Next chapter should be within the week.


	3. First Week in a New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfram spends their first week with Levi & co.

Mitsuru- well, Wolfram now- had been rescued late in the afternoon. Shortly after being discovered, a knock came at the door. The child was shoved into a closet along with several bags and packets of items- opening one revealed dried fruit and another held sanitary wipes. They were told to stay quiet while a new stranger was let in.

From what Wolfram could see through the crack in the door, the visitor was a heavyset man in a worn mauve suit. He sauntered in and demanded to see what the trio had gotten. The man was given some grain and jewelry. Wolfram could see him looking between the few items before him and the large, empty crate a few feet away. Huffing, the man carelessly tossed a wad of cash to Levi and left. The young man flipped through the bills then set them on the counter of the kitchenette, obviously displeased. Farlan took it and went into some back room they couldn't see.

"Oi, brat." They poked their head out of the closet in response. "You said you know how to clean right? Wipe the floors, that bastard tracked shit in here."

Their cleaning was closely supervised. When they were done, Levi inspected the floor, then left suddenly. He returned with a blanket. "Here." Wolfram caught the cloth with their face. "Brats need sleep, so get some." He blew out the candles, leaving only the rising moon to illuminate the room.

Isabel snickered. "Seems like he likes you." Then, she left too. With the excitement thoroughly gone, exhaustion finally set in. The Transient lay on the floor and fell into a dreamless sleep within minutes.

They woke in the morning to the scent of breakfast. Before they could so much as look at the food, however, Levi declared them filthy and had Farlan show them how to wash up properly. This largely consisted of sitting in a shallow wooden tub, scrubbing, and at random moments getting water dunked on their head while the blonde laughed his ass off. For the first time, Wolfram was able to properly inspect their new body.

It was similar to their normal one if only smaller and more in shape (Choji had gone hard for the holidays and far be it from them to pass up free food). Their hair was short and spiked wildly, refusing to lay flat even under the constant deluge. Their hands were unblemished, save for their summoning crest, which is now on both of their hands. Once they're made aware of it, it becomes impossible for the child not to notice how odd it is to not feel through the scars on their palms and the padding on their fingers. Wolfram spent a few minutes simply poking and staring at themself. They had no memories of being a child, so they couldn't really tell if this appearance was off or not. Maybe they had simply de-aged, or maybe they had wound up in a completely different body, they had no way of knowing. There was just too much about this situation they didn't know. However, they had at least one way of finding out.

"Hey, Farlan, can you tell me more about this world?" They asked as they climbed out of the basin.

"This world? You mean the Underground?"

"Just, everything you can think of."

The young man informed them of the world they had found themself in. Giant man-eating beasts called Titans had all but wiped out humanity, forcing them behind a series of walls. The Underground they reside in is beneath the innermost one, Wall Sina. It, along with the others, have held out for about a century. They keep the last bastions of humanity safe inside, though they also keep them penned in.

An increasing population and an inability to expand has created a shortage that only grows worse with time. The majority of the land is owned by nobles and worked by commoners who can't even afford the food they grow. Those in the Underground rely upon government handouts or, in most cases, upon raiding the merchants who use the area as a shortcut to avoid taxes.

"Most of us don't even legally exist. Stuck down here, unable to see the Sun, barely even human. But, it has its perks, we don't have to worry about forging any documents for you." He patted the child on the head with a wry smile and left Wolfram to contemplate his words over a bowl of cold porridge.

It's difficult to tell without any natural light, but some time passes before they're called on by Isabel. She was waiting outside, at the foot of the building, and led them to an open space nearby.

"Take this." Isabel tossed something to them.

Wolfram caught the object in one hand and inspected it. It was an old knife, one that carried more threat of getting tetanus than of getting cut.

"Show me what you got."

"You sure?"

"Bring it, I can take you." Wolfram slashed the air a few times, then set the knife down. The girl opened her mouth, then snapped it shut as the child leaped at her, leg primed at their side.

Their movements were awkward and their hits were light, but the child only got better the longer the fight dragged out, barraging the teen with a flurry of attacks. After several minutes, Isabel called for them to stop.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" The redhead groaned, rubbing her arms that were sore from blocking.

"It is called capoeira, my friend Bathym taught me."

"Bathym?"

"Yeah, he's a demon who's a part of the Berserkers. They're," Wolfram thinks on how to describe the battle-loving guild, "they're a group of fighters. In the Colosseum, Bathym's one of the best. He and Pollux trained me whenever I went. Though, it was more like throwing a bunch of enemies at me and telling me to dodge." Isabel hummed in interest as they rambled on about the Toshima guild.

They were startled when Levi returned late in the night, not even noticing that he had left. He had grunted in response to their welcome home and stomped to his room.

The next day Wolfram watched Levi leave early in the morning and spent the rest of the day being shown around town by Isabel. They got in a fight with some drunkards and had to run after Wolfram punched one into a metal pipe. The redhead told them to avoid getting into fights if possible "But if someone throws a punch, they're going down." The guild leader wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment.

The third day was spent using the money the trio had earned to buy produce from the only grocer in the area, whose shop was about ten miles away. The trip was made even longer by winding through a complex maze of backstreets to avoid getting jumped on the way back.

The fourth was entirely dedicated to cleaning. This was when their ring was found.

On the fifth day, some more strangers came to talk with the trio. Levi introduced them as, "some idiots they work with." Wolfram sat on the floor while they discussed plans for an upcoming caper.

On the sixth day, Wolfram and Isabel were sent to check out their mark, a merchant by the name of Henninger. In two days, he would be stopping in their turf to fuel up for a trip to the Surface. Perching on the roofs, they watched Henninger chat with a tall man wearing some kind of uniform.

"Who's that?" Wolfram whispered.

"Military Police, MP, the dogs of the nobles. They're supposed to defend the inside of the walls, with emphasis on supposed to. The ones who aren't too scared to come down here are either true believers in their jobs or sadistic assholes here to torture us. Hard to say which is worse." She stuck out her tongue in disgust. Though hard to see from a distance, Henninger hands the officer a large envelope, who immediately pocketed it. " Seems like we'll have to deal with them this time. Giving them the runaround is easy, though."

"I see."

The seventh day was the first day they had been left to their own devices. They were kicked out to prevent distractions as the others prepared for the attack the next day. Wolfram ran a thumb over their ring and left to find somewhere quiet. They came across an abandoned building and, after triple checking that there was nothing but rats inside, entered.

"This place should act as an enclosed space." They said to themself, slipping into their native Japanese. "It'll work, it will." They nervously kicked at the dusty, rotting floorboards then took a deep breath, reciting. "My role is that of the Wanderer," the crest on the back of their hands glowed. A smile grows wider on the Transient's face with each word. "Rule of Rending." For a moment the dank, desolate building was replaced by the open sky. They're back at Shinjuku Central Park on that first night. "Forged Rectification! Thou who art nameless in this world and powerless to claim this world; deceive the world, hinder the world, and by thy false name manifest in this closed domain." A summoning circle appeared before them. "Avatar of the Serpent's tail, severed by the Wanderer. Bare thy Rule of Rending and sever all power and authority. Engrave mine name unto thee. Come forth, Boundless Tail!"

The circle expanded, revealing a light brown sheathed sword with a long handle and an equally long sageo, from which a white magatama hanged. Simply seeing their Sacred Artifact after so long brought tears to their eyes.

They reached to grab the sword, but the moment their fingers brushed against the handle, the world went black. When they come to, it's much later, the shadows of the building stretching across the floor. Wolfram brought a hand to their head, trying to steady themself, only to find it to be larger than normal. After checking themself over, the Transient came to a realization. Their hand was normal, they had returned to their true body!

Any joy that came from regaining their original form was drowned by terror. How were they going to explain coming home ten years older? A cold breeze running through their now torn clothes sobers them somewhat.

"Okay, calm down." The teenager said to themself, pacing about. "Take it slow, think things over like Shiro taught you to. Okay." They took a deep breath and clapped their hands.

"I woke up as a child a week ago. I assume it's because of someone's ability. It shouldn't work because of Boundless Tail. It stopped working when I summoned Boundless Tail. So it's obviously connected to that. Right? Right.

But, I've never needed it summoned to deflect those kinds of things until now. That's because... because it works off of my Rule. "Sever all power and authority." Sounds about right." They stare at the calluses that cover their hand. "Maybe there's something about the world itself? Restricting Sacred Artifacts, wouldn't that cause an Exception?"

A sliver of moonlight reaches the teen through a hole in the ceiling. It was late, they could contemplate the nature of this phenomenon later. Reluctantly, they unsummon Boundless Tail. The shock is lessened while their sitting down, but they still feel disoriented when they awaken, once again a child. Noticing the Sun rising in the Sky, Wolfram rushes back to the hideout. On the way, they would have to find some way to explain how they got so dirty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! I was contemplating expanding the last part into its own chapter but decided against it. Trying to get to the main story as quickly as possible


End file.
